Casey Lindberg

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Ota Benga
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Ota Benga by Phillips Verner Bradford
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Possessing the Secret of Joy by Alice Walker
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Gather Together in My Name by Maya Angelou
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Possessing the Secret of Joy by Alice Walker
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Gather Together in My Name by Maya Angelou
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A Short Guide to a Happy Life by Anna Quindlen
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The Night of the Gun by David Carr
The Night of the Gun
by David Carr
read in April, 2015
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The Night of the Gun by David Carr
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Memories of John Lennon by Yoko Ono
Memories of John Lennon
by Yoko Ono
read in January, 2015
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More of Casey's books…
Tahereh Mafi
“I spent my life folded between the pages of books.
In the absence of human relationships I formed bonds with paper characters. I lived love and loss through stories threaded in history; I experienced adolescence by association. My world is one interwoven web of words, stringing limb to limb, bone to sinew, thoughts and images all together. I am a being comprised of letters, a character created by sentences, a figment of imagination formed through fiction.”
Tahereh Mafi, Shatter Me

Stephen Chbosky
“Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Chops"
because that was the name of his dog

And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts
That was the year Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo

And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
Valentine signed with a row of X's

and he had to ask his father what the X's meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it

Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Autumn"

because that was the name of the season
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint

And the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed

when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.


Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Innocence: A Question"
because that was the question about his girl
And that's what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A

and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her
That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle's Creed went

And he caught his sister
making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
And the girl around the corner
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her

but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three a.m. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly

That's why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem

And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
Because that's what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn't think

he could reach the kitchen.”
Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being A Wallflower

Orson Scott Card
“This is how humans are: We question all our beliefs, except for the ones that we really believe in, and those we never think to question.”
Orson Scott Card, Speaker for the Dead

Henry Miller
“I believe that today more than ever a book should be sought after even if it has only one great page in it. We must search for fragments, splinters, toenails, anything that has ore in it, anything that is capable of resuscitating the body and the soul.”
Henry Miller, Tropic of Cancer

Jarod Kintz
“There are two typos of people in this world: those who can edit, and those who can't.”
Jarod Kintz, This Book is Not for Sale

Lindsay...
33 books | 60 friends

Racine ...
1 book | 375 friends

Jessica...
378 books | 44 friends

Charlie
1,015 books | 73 friends

Stefani...
944 books | 108 friends

Brittany
223 books | 52 friends

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274 books | 33 friends

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0 books | 182 friends




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